


Slip-Ups

by giantess



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bisexual Character, Coming Out, F/F, Lesbian Character, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-11
Updated: 2015-06-11
Packaged: 2018-04-03 23:39:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4118893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/giantess/pseuds/giantess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"They don't actually know that we're in a relationship, do they?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slip-Ups

**Author's Note:**

> A small headcanon turned into a 1000+ fic. Also on my [tumblr](http://wahaygentcarter.tumblr.com/post/121296731716/slip-ups)

The journey from the airport to the Martinelli house takes longer than it should. Partly because of traffic; mostly because long-distance relationships make intimacy difficult and Peggy decides that she can’t wait until after an evening with her girlfriend’s family to be intimate.

They still make good time, however, and, sitting in the car outside the house, Peggy reaches over to grab Angie’s arm. ‘Thank you for inviting me to spend Thanksgiving with your family.’

Angie grins, ‘Of course, Peg.’

‘And I know that these “meet the parents” things can be weird. If it’s too much, you can say I’m under the weather, and I’ll go back to the apartment or...’ Peggy pauses, noting that Angie’s smiles has lowered, and her head is turned away from Peggy, ‘What is it? Do you want me to go?’

‘No, no it’s not that.’ The smile returns, though not as wide. It is the kind of smile seen in the faces of nurses and doctors who know that something is about to hurt. ‘It’s just that this, you coming here, it isn’t exactly a “meet the parents” thing. I mean, you are going to meet my family, but...’

‘They don’t know that we’re in a relationship, do they?’ Peggy takes her hand away from Angie’s arm. Angie rubs at the now vacant spot, hoping to find some of Peggy’s warmth in there.

‘No. They don’t,’ She swallows, ‘They actually don’t even know that I’m gay.’

‘I see.’

A pause.

‘Are you mad at me?’

Peggy faces her again, and takes one of Angie’s hands between her two, ‘No, darling, of course not. I just wish you’d told me earlier. If I’d known I wouldn’t be able to kiss you in front of your family, I might have been more thorough in that café bathroom.’

Angie peers through the window behind her; nobody is looking. Turning back with a smirk, she presses Peggy’s cheeks between two hands and kisses her. Peggy pulls back after a moment and sighs.

‘We’d better go in.’

* * *

  
‘Ma, please,’ Angie pleads between wheezing laughs.

‘...And then,’ Mrs Martinelli continues, ignoring her daugher’s pleas for mercy, ‘She runs outta the bathroom, naked as the day she was born, covered head-to-toe in bubbles and says, ‘Ma, there’s a cloud in the bathroom.’

The table laughs while a ruddy bloom spreads across Angie’s face. Peggy withholds her laughter (at least, compared to the rest of Angie’s family), and squeezes her leg.

‘Are you OK?’ She mouths.

Angie nods.

‘I’d better get these plates into the kitchen.

‘Let me help, Mrs. Martinelli,’ Peggy stands, already taking up the nearest plates.

‘Thank you,’ Then, turning to Angie, ‘See? At least your friend here offers to help out.’

‘Hey, I spend most of my day carryin’ plates for strangers, can’t I have a day off?’

‘Well it wouldn’t be like that if you’d have taken the job with your uncle George.’

‘Ma...’

Her brother, Sam, interjects before the usual familial dramatics can truly begin, ‘Who wants a beer?’

A cacophony of “yes”s dominates the table.

‘I’ve gotta drive Peggy home, sorry, Sam.’

‘Oh, don’t worry,’ Peggy peers through the door-frame, ‘I can drive on the way back.’

‘Thanks, English,’ Angie resists the urge to blow her a kiss, ‘Beer it is.’

* * *

  
Things go more smoothly at first with the introduction of alcohol, as is usually the case. They manage to avoid topics like Angie’s delayed acting career, Sam’s dubious girlfriend, and Aunt Carla’s tendency to drink heavily. Peggy bears the brunt of the questions, for which Angie feels both guilty and relieved. At least they’re not questioning her.

‘Do you have a boyfriend back in England?’ Angie tips back the bottle, eyes widening.

Peggy smiles politely, ‘Not currently, no.’

‘D’you like a boyfriend in America?’ It’s Angie’s other brother, Thomas, who speaks, wagging his eye-brows comically. He’s half-joking, but Angie’s known him long enough to know that beneath the faux-creepiness is at least a little sincerity.

Peggy, as good at deflecting the family’s questions as she has been, is not prepared for Thomas.

Luckily, Mrs. Martinelli disagrees with Thomas’ approach to flirting. A tea-towel whips around, slapping him on the shoulder.

‘That’s enough of that.’

Thomas rubs at the wound, looking down at the table.

Angie lets out a long breath, and relaxes her grip on the bottle.

* * *

  
‘We really have to go.’

Angie isn’t drunk. She’s well aware of the fact that another beer is likely to push her from buzzed to sloppy.

‘Aw, come on, Ang,’ She hates that nickname, ‘Have another drink, it’s not even late.’ Sam thrusts a bottle at her.

She rests on hand on Peggy’s shoulder, ‘We really need to go.’

‘No,’ he stretches the vowel, pleading with her to stay, ‘Just one more drink. What are you, a pussy?’

‘Well, you are what you eat.’ OK, maybe she is a little drunk.

Angie can hear the record scratch in her head as the room cuts to silence. She crinkles her eyes, wishing like Dorothy to be home. Or anywhere else. Preferably a cave somewhere very remote.

When she opens her eyes the room is staring. Awareness of her hand hot on Peggy’s shoulder shoots across her, and she yanks it away. Peggy’s hands remain firmly in her lap, her fingers entwined like knotted rope.

There’s a clink as Mrs. Martinelli puts down her glass. Angie makes herself still, imagining her feet as roots and her body as a great redwood tree.

‘So many things make sense now,’ is all she says.

Angie lets herself laugh, one outburst that sounds more like a cough. Peggy’s grip relaxes slightly.

‘So,’ Thomas says when the quietness grips too tightly, looking at Peggy over his beer, ‘Does this mean you’re not looking for a boyfriend?’

The tension cracks, bubbles of sighs sounding throughout the room. Angie unwinds. Peggy’s shoulders slouch. They even allow themselves to smile.

‘Stay a little longer, Angela,’ Mrs. Martinelli, ‘You and Peggy don’t need to get back right now, do you?’

‘No, ma, we can stay.’

She retakes her seat, glancing over to Peggy. Her hands are still hanging together in her lap. Angie reaches over and untwists them, taking one hand and pulling it on top of the table. Peggy looks between their linked hands and Angie’s face, and watches as Angie rejoins the conversation. She can sense the lightness in her voice, the absence of an anxiety that had been embedded in her body for years. It might not be over completely, but for now, they're happy.


End file.
